Violated
by christikat
Summary: Suddenly a cold breeze twirled into the shower stall and Wilson shivered. “House? Is that you?” he called out. He got no answer and shook his head. Really, this locker room was creepy!


Hot water was pattering on his shoulders, warming him up gradually. His head was bowed as he watched the water fall down from the long strands of his hair, pooling around his feet before vanishing into the drain.

He was exhausted, felt dizzy and wobbly on his legs. He tilted his head so the water could splash directly onto his face, hoping it would wash away the exhaustion. After a few minutes he sighed, grabbed for the soap and started to wash himself. The hot shower was lifting his spirits and when his thoughts wandered to House he began to smile. Today was House's turn to cook which meant take-out most of the time. House also had to take care of the dessert and he was rather … _innovative_.

Wilson shut the tap and grabbed for the towel. Suddenly he felt chilled to the bones, someone must have opened the door and Wilson looked up expectantly. There was no one to be found and nothing to be heard. Wilson frowned, then shrugged and chided himself for acting like a scaredy-cat. He rubbed himself down, stepped out of the shower stall and walked over to his neatly stacked clothes, with the towel tied securely around his waist. He never felt very comfortable in public showers and tried to shower in the hospital only when he felt an absolute desire for it. After doing his normal rounds, a biopsy and a surgery he really had longed for a hot shower today. The desire to scrub everything off him before going home was too strong to be ignored.

As he untied the towel, a cool breeze touched his warm skin and he looked around again. He was frozen to the spot, holding his breath but still nothing out of the ordinary was to be seen. He shook his head, feeling embarrassed but also wary and dressed quickly. The feeling of something being off stayed with him as he cautiously lurked out of the bathroom-door. A big grin formed on his face as he discovered House lounging on a visitor-chair, twiddling his cane. He walked over to him, grinning even more at seeing that House had brought his briefcase and coat. Warmth flooded through him and softly he said, "Eager to get home, huh?"

House scowled in response and thrust the briefcase in Wilson's hands. "I want to be home in time for the Monster-Truck-show. If you have to go to your office again you'll meet at least three people who need your help and we would never get home in time," House shrugged, concealing his true reason rather badly.

"I see," Wilson answered with obvious amusement in his voice. They bantered on their way to the elevator, their shoulders brushing occasionally. They were completely unaware of icy green eyes staring at their backs.

XXXXX

_Three days later_

Wilson stomped into the bathroom, hastily grabbing some fresh clothes out of his locker. He was almost retching and heavily fighting against the urge to puke his guts out. It wasn't the fault of the poor girl who puked all over him but that didn't help him to feel better now. Carelessly he undressed and threw his clothes on the floor in a heap.

He stepped into the first shower stall and turned the tap on hot. Quickly he lathered his body with soap, washing the smell of vomit off him. Washing away the smell of vomit he went through his schedule for the rest of the day. He sighed in defeat – a pile of paperwork needed to be tackled. At least the folders weren't going to puke all over him.

He rinsed the soap off, startling when a cold breeze twirled around him, sending goose-bumps all over his body. He swung the towel around him while taking a look over the door of the shower stall. He was irritated by the draft, expecting to see who caused it. Shaking his head he stepped out of the shower, toweled himself dry and grabbed his fresh clothes. He glanced around repeatedly, not able to overcome the feeling of being observed. He finished dressing and took in a deep breath when he was finally ready. As he bent down to gather his soiled clothes another wave of cold air swirled around him. He jumped when a hand was laid on his shoulder. Spinning around he looked up with an embarrassingly high-pitched squeak. He closed his eyes shortly before squeezing out, "God, Matt! You scared me! I didn't hear you come in."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Your secretary said you were taking a shower and I need your signature for these releases," Matt answered with an apologetic smile.

Wilson took the folders and scribbled down his signature. After that he bent down to stuff his clothes into a bag. He was startled again when Matt asked, "Are you alright? You look a bit pale."

Wilson felt like an idiot for scuttling away a few feet from Matt with a wary expression on his face. He knew this man for over a year now but never felt intimidated by him before. He was interrupted in his awkward stammered response by House.

"Having a party here? And I'm not invited?" he quipped although his whole body radiated tension. Wilson knew exactly how possessive House could get – which wasn't always a good thing. Today he was relieved by it and almost bounced over to him.

"If you consider gathering puked on clothing as a party you're very welcome to join."

"Uh, better not."

"Thought so."

Wilson finally had the clothes packed into a bag. Matt nodded at him before leaving; throwing a glance to him which Wilson failed to interpret.

He was taken by surprise when he turned to House and was drawn in close by the nape of his neck, receiving a forceful kiss. House muttered, "That guy has a thing for you. You better be careful around him."

Wilson rolled his eyes while doing his patent hands-on-hips pose, "Not everyone wants to get into my pants."

"Keep your pants closed tightly when I'm not around."

"Yes, sir!"

XXXXX

_A week later_

Wilson was excited, bordering on feeling giddy. Consciously he was aware of himself acting like a teenager, a teenager who was wooed by his very attentive boyfriend. However impossible it might sound House had gotten tickets for a play in New York that Wilson wanted to see really badly and had nagged him about it endlessly.

This morning House had been out of bed before Wilson. Considering that it was a work day, House was up incredibly early. Wilson padded into the kitchen in socks cladded feet, following the smell of freshly brewed coffee and the sizzling sounds of eggs and bacon in the pan. Wilson blinked in surprise and rubbed his hands over his face.

"Is it my birthday today?" he asked.

House grinned, then pulled Wilson into a tight embrace, "Would I remember your birthday?"

"Uh, you're right. That sounds ridiculous. What do you say, how did I earn this reward?" Wilson kept asking while nuzzling his cheek against House's stubbly jaw.

"Keeping up with me all the time cried for a reward. And you talking about this play got on my nerves so I thought there's no better way to shut you up than to get tickets for it," House answered.

Wilson loosened the embrace and stared at House in a mixture of joy and disbelief, "You … got … tickets? Seriously? And … you … are going there with me?"

House rolled his eyes, "Take it as an early second anniversary present."

"Our second anniversary is in two months and you almost slapped me when I brought this subject up last year!"

House averted his eyes and shuffled nervously with his feet, "Even I can't push a near-death-experience aside without being affected by it."

House looked straight into Wilson's eyes, troubled emotions clearly visible in his look. Wilson swallowed; he didn't like to think about the car accident from six months before. He still had nightmares occasionally of him being trapped in the car listening to the metal moaning and groaning. He got lucky and survived with a broken wrist, broken legs and abdominal bleeding due to a ruptured spleen. It had taken him ten weeks to recover from the injuries, followed by a lot of more weeks with physical therapy and only four weeks ago he had started to work again.

House had mellowed visibly after the accident and even allowed Wilson to cuddle frequently. Wilson took full advantage of this situation and draped himself all over House whenever possible.

Wilson traced a line along House's jaw, merely brushing with his fingertips, then croaked, "Thank you."

House grinned broadly, "We're leaving work early today and driving to the hotel. The performance is tomorrow evening so we have plenty of time to take advantage of the comforts of the hotel. You know, like taking a bath together in the big Jacuzzi."

House waggled his eyebrows in a suggestive manner, extricating a chuckle out of Wilson.

"I'm looking forward to it," Wilson smiled, then hugged House quickly and blurted, "I love you too!"

House simply kissed him before turning around to stir the eggs.

XXXXX

Now, their work day was over but Wilson had insisted on taking a shower before their drive. He felt sweaty after a stressful surgery and wanted to change into more casual clothes anyway. House had grumbled and ranted that Wilson could shower in the hotel but Wilson argued he would like to get to know the bed much more. House had ushered him to the bathroom and told him to be quick while he waited in his office.

Wilson was humming "What a wonderful world" as he lathered himself with the soap and washed his hair with a peach-scented shampoo. He grinned in anticipation of House mocking him for using such a girly shampoo while rubbing his nose into Wilson's hair and making love to him.

Wilson blushed at the use of the term "love making"; hopefully he wouldn't say this aloud. He glared at his penis which reacted quite enthusiastically to his inner image. He was _so_ going to need to turn the tap on _very _cold at the end of his shower!

Suddenly a cold breeze twirled into the shower stall and Wilson shivered. "House? Is that you?" he called out. He got no answer and shook his head. Really, this locker room was creepy!

He rinsed his hair out but spun around with his heart pounding in his chest when a wave of cold air hit his back. He couldn't even cry out for help because a large hand was pressed over his mouth. He was shoved against the cold shower wall, trembling at the coldness seeping into his body from the cold tiles and at seeing the cruelty in his captor's eyes.

"Don't even think about crying out for help or fighting me. If you cooperate you might get away with minor injuries," Matt told him while pressing his naked body against Wilson's.

Wilson blinked in confusion; this was too surreal to be true. He must be caught in a very weird nightmare. Wilson came to his senses when Matt guided his erection between his buttocks. His body stiffened, every muscle was taut and he forgot all about Matt's warning. He rammed his elbow sharply into Matt's ribs, spun around, ready to sprint out of the shower. He wasn't able go even one step before Matt's hand connected with his cheeks, swiveling his head around. Losing his balance he stumbled against the wall where Matt trapped him with his body immediately.

Wilson opened his mouth to cry out for help but only a pained gasp escaped as Matt slapped him hard for the second time. Wilson's ears were ringing; tears were welling up in his eyes as Matt's hand sealed his mouth shut again. He looked at Matt saucer-eyed, heavy trembles shaking his body, putting his terror on display. Matt grinned at him while he held Wilson's wrists in a tight lock above his head.

"You like it rough? That's okay with me," he said before licking a trace along Wilson's jaw.

Wilson couldn't suppress a shiver of disgust rushing through his body. He started to retch when the feeling of disgust exploded as Matt's erection came in contact with his own flaccid penis. The retching earned him two more slaps, making him feel dizzy and somehow detached from the whole situation. He was spun around again and this time Matt didn't waste a second. He shoved his erection directly between Wilson's buttocks and nudged at his entrance.

Wilson struggled in wild panic and cried out for help again. It got him more blows - this time with a fist. After what felt like a lifetime for Wilson, he found himself hunched together in a fetal position on the floor of the shower stall. The now cold water was raining down on him and he heard himself sobbing and begging Matt to stop. His answer was to be pulled up by his hair; his arms tightly locked in front of him by one of Matt's arms.

"No way I'm gonna stop. I'll get a good fuck and you're annoying _boyfriend_ will think that you cheated on him," Matt told him, cackling at the last part of his sentence. "He would never believe you if you told him that you had been raped."

At this Wilson couldn't stop the tears from flowing freely. He was supposed to be having a great weekend with House, not trapped in a violent nightmare. When he felt Matt positioning himself again at his entrance, he choked, "Why are you doing this? I will report this to the police!"

Matt stopped, then growled, "Why am I doing this? Because I like you and want to know what it feels like to take you."

Wilson whimpered and squirmed in Matt's arms, all he could think of was that he wanted to go to House, crawl on his lap and bawl his eyes out.

Matt went on with his explanation without mercy, "You won't report it. You'll be too humiliated and mortified. You wouldn't want anyone to know that you couldn't defend yourself. Maybe they wouldn't believe you anyway."

"I would believe him," a low voice informed Matt.

Matt's and Wilson's heads snapped up, Matt's expression turning into one of hatred whereas Wilson's changed into one of hope. Hope was replaced with renew panic as Matt nudged Wilson's legs apart with a knee.

"There's nothing you can do. Except enjoying the show," Matt spit out. Madness was pouring out of every pore, the green eyes glittering with a crazy fire.

"No, I can't - but they can," House replied coolly while beckoning the security guards over. Matt let go of Wilson instantly and put up a heavy fight, desperately trying to escape. He was ranting obscenities when the guards overpowered him. Meanwhile Wilson had stumbled over to House who quickly wrapped him in a towel and guided him to a chair.

Police showed up quickly and Wilson had to give his statement. He was lucky that the people from the forensic unit allowed the examination to be made at the hospital. He was shivering while they took photos and swabs, closing his eyes in shameful defeat. House had wanted to stay with him and ranted angrily when the investigators told him to wait outside. Wilson was glad for House's absence, he didn't think he could handle that kind of humiliation.

Red-faced and with a quivering lower lip he staggered out of the exam room after the investigators had finished their work. When Wilson saw House waiting for him he knew he would break down here and now, bawling his eyes out here in the clinic where everyone could see him. His face heated up even more as he put up a false smile, stammering, "I … I just get my … my things. So … so we can drive to … to the hotel."

He almost ran from the clinic to the stairs, taking two steps at once. He left a bewildered looking House, who wasn't able to finish his retort, "You want -."

The male investigator walked over to him and handed him a business card, "He'll need time. And help. This is the address of a psychotherapist who's specializes in victims of sexual assaults."

House stared at the outstretched hand but finally took the card. His fingers were slightly trembling and he couldn't help but ask the investigator, "That asshole didn't …" He had to swallow hard against the lump in his throat before he was able to continue with the question that burned on his soul since he found Wilson in the bathroom. "He didn't … go all the way, did he?"

The investigator wasn't sure if he was allowed to answer but at seeing the raw need in House's eyes, decided to act on his feelings, "No. Your friend got lucky. Nonetheless he will need help."

House straightened up, tension flowing slowly out of his body and answered with confidence, "He will get all the help he needs."

He nodded towards the investigator, then limped over to the elevator, following Wilson.

XXXXX

He arrived at Wilson's office as the very same opened the door. House pushed him back into his office and closed the door behind him.

"Hey, what are you doing? I thought we'd go to the car and drive to the hotel." Wilson talked too fast, too loud, and too cheerful.

House glowered at him, "We're going home."

"What? But you promised me we were going to see the play and have a nice weekend," Wilson whined, allowing despair to creep into his voice.

"You almost got raped two hours ago!" House yelled while banging a fist against the door behind him.

Wilson flinched and ducked his head, looking at House from huge glazed and frightened eyes. He blinked against the veil of tears, licked his lips and with a slightly quivering voice replied, "That doesn't mean you're going to get out of your promise."

House, seething with anger, removed Wilson's briefcase from his grasp and laid his hands firmly on Wilson's shoulders. In a low voice he said, "That's not funny! Not the slightest bit and you know that. This isn't about me breaking a promise."

House's hands cautiously travelled up Wilson's throat and jaw, settling on stroking Wilson's cheeks tenderly. New tears welled up in Wilson's eyes and his throat started to throb from the pain of holding back his sobs. He whispered, "No, it's not. It's about me wanting to forget what happened. It's about me wanting to be with you. It's about me wanting to feel safe."

House's face softened and he pulled Wilson flush against him, holding him as tightly as possible. Wilson was still fighting against the overwhelming wish to cry and scream, heavy trembles shook his body and he felt chilled to the bones.

"Most people would cry now," House suggested carefully.

"I'm not most people. And if I start now I won't stop and I really want to spend the weekend with you like it was planned before … before all this happened," Wilson's voice was breaking as he loosened his grip around House's torso so that he was able to look him in the eye. Softly he added, "_Please_."

House had to press his lips together tightly at Wilson's plea, the raw need in Wilson's eyes was tearing his heart apart. His voice sounded unfamiliar and hoarse when he answered, "Do you know that the security guards followed me because they thought I had something to do with the sprinkler system going off in Cuddy's office? That is the only reason why you're not another number in the rape statistics?"

Wilson winced and averted his eyes. House held on to him more tightly when he tried to squirm free. House laid a hand on Wilson's chin and tipped it slightly, forcing Wilson to look back at him. Wilson swallowed hard, then repeated, "_Please_? I want to forget. I want to pretend nothing happened. Just for the next two days."

"You can't pretend that nothing happened. You are already traumatized from the car accident."

"I'm not traumatized! But you will be if I'm not going to see that play because I'll nag you for the next couple _years_!"

House smiled when he saw the pouting face and heard the petulant undertone. He tilted his head a bit and with as much tenderness as he could muster, kissed Wilson. Wilson's immediate reaction was a needy whimper and to clutch tightly at House. When they broke apart he asked, "So, is it a yes, we're going?"

"We will pretend that nothing happened for the weekend. On Monday you'll make an appointment with this psychotherapist," House answered and showed Wilson the business card.

"I -" Wilson was cut off by House, "Take the deal or we're going to stay at home."

Wilson stared at him, then insisted, "I'm _fine_. He didn't get what he wanted. It was just a huge scare."

House closed his eyes shortly before he repeated calmly, "Take the deal and don't play it down."

Big brown eyes studied him intensely. Wilson shuffled his feet - then stared at a spot on the wall, his eyes unfocussed. His voice was barely a whisper when he asked, "Will you be angry if there's no sex this weekend?"

House's mouth hung open as his thoughts whirled around in his head, thinking that this must be the most inappropriate question ever. Carefully he answered, "I will be angry if you don't allow me and a psychotherapist to help you."

Wilson's eyes swept over to him again, a very small but genuine smile forming on his lips. "You're very insistent. But … okay. Come on, let's go."

He picked up his briefcase and tugged at House's hand. House knew that a lot of work was lying ahead but if Wilson needed the escape of what happened today he was willing to give it to him. He didn't let go of Wilson's hand during their walk to the car which earned him a startled look out of troubled brown eyes. Trouble gave way to different emotions, amazement and love being the most obvious ones.

END

8


End file.
